Ludacris - F5 (Furiously Dangerous) | Текст песни

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• Ludacris
• F5 (Furiously Dangerous)

[Refrain: Claret Jai]
We're so furiously dangerous

[Verse 1: Ludacris]
Death by lyrical injection, I kill you rappers
A lotta green with a yellow complexion
Women call me the Green Bay Packer
I pack the zero's, meaning mucho dinero
So paid, rappers is waitin’ on trades
And they all gettin' Knicked like Melo
Hello, Luda
Tell theses other boys double up
Cause I got some work all on my waste but I call it a tummy tuck
My every records jumpin', or playin' double dutch
I shit on rappers every verse just got the bubble guts

[Verse 2: Joe Budden]
Let me tell this to the people not understandin' my moxy
Animal, watch me if you think it's tangible, stop me
But then I hit 'em with a flow that they can't even copy
See we don't play that where I'm from it's like fantasy hockey
Sup with the dog, thugs want a war
Bad GM, what you want to trade slugs with him for
While you cuffin 'em all, I'm stuffin' her jaw
Then leave 'em for you to rebound
Kevin Love on the boards
Dog, you and your skill retard hard from of our squad
I'll put you on a crash course in a Smartcar
While I'm speedin' not relyin' on the brake pad
In a car that you should only drive on a race track
So the lines about your phantoms and your Maybach
Are ghost tales of the phantom, face facts
You ruined hip-hop
Slaughterhouse will payback
Get in shape and a tatt
We done faded to black

[Refrain]

[Verse 3: Royce da 5'9"]
I went from eatin' Top Ramen to bein'
Top Rhymer, chock full of commas
No regrets except for the drama
I remember a time when my only perfection was my momma
My mind a long erection
Now it's time you bow down and erect a monu-ment in my honor
Cause bitch I'm bonker, plural
In the whip with my Ivanka, pompous girls
She on E, feelin' on me, singin' on-key
While I'm bumpin', We Are the World
Got her sniffin' Britney, no he didn't did he
We run this town
No he isn't Diddy
I feel like tiltlin' the glass
She take a sip with me
She from the city of Jackson
Call her Mississippi
That was pretty witty
Your man like a Black man tryna get re-elected
He ain't gettin' diddley

[Verse 4: Joell Ortiz]
Stickin' it to the pedal, pedal to the floor
Just whippin' it through the ghetto
Metal in the door
In case I gotta throw some lead into ya, boy
Referee mind state, I’m settlin' the score
I don’t know what ya’ll hatin' for
Wait, wait, know what, matter fact
I don’t know what you’re waitin' for
I ain't finna say nothin'
Turn the bass up more til the speakers pop
I get a kick outta that, like a sneaker spot
See I was a little kid with his thumbs in his ears
And his tongue in the air going na-na-na-nah-naaar
Just when you think it stop na-na-na-nah-naaar
Everything I speak is hot
Don't be mad at least everything you speak is
I can’t think of nothing nice to say, you’re not nice okay

[Verse 5: Crooked I]
Rapper, hustler, entrepreneur
My shit fly like I'm launchin' manure
Lord of the underground
God of the sewer
On Hennessy Black, on con to the jure
Yeah, I'm off the block
This ain't work, homie I'm off the clock
I'm a syllable Hannibal killer
A cannibal with a mechanical mandible to deliver the flammable
Ammo, lyrical animal off the top
Rep that West til I walk with Pac
We the 2.0 Boys, Tiz, Crook and Joe, Royce
New Ghost Rolls Royce pulled off the lot
Pop me the only way you could stop me
I'm top seed
I clock green at mach speed
So watch me if you haven't seen a phenomenon
Spit fast as Lamborghini's and Ramadan

[Refrain]

[Outro: Claret Jai]
I suggest you shut down
Pack your 'ish and turn around
Because tonight we run this town
So let your feet swiftly

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